Choose an application

• Reference Manager
• EndNote
• RefWorks (Direct export to RefWorks)

In this new body of work, Beyond Maps and Atlases, Bertien van Manen turns to Ireland. Van Manen says, ‘At first, working in Ireland I wasn’t sure what I was looking for. My husband had died. I dispensed with the people and reflected on the atmosphere. I was guided by a feeling and a search, a longing for some kind of meaning in a place of myths and legends. There was mystery and endlessness at the edge of a land beyond which is nothing but a vast expanse.’00Where can it be found again,0An elswhere world, beyond0Maps and atlases,0Where all is woven into0And of itself, like a nest0Of crosshatched grass blades? 0Seamus Heaney00Van Manen rolled into photography almost by accident, taking pictures of her children with an old camera. As her work became more public she was soon drafted into the world of fashion photography. In 1977 she tired of the industry, and on discovering the documentary photography of Robert Frank and Josef Koudelka, van Manen began to explore the developing relationship between herself and her subjects, keeping a closeness and developing a personal, organic style of photography. Recent works include Easter and Oak Trees (MACK, 2013) and Moonshine (MACK, 2014)00.

Van Manen, Bertien --- fotografie --- landschapsfotografie --- documentaire fotografie --- eenentwintigste eeuw --- Ierland --- Nederland --- van Manen Bertien --- 77.071 VAN MANEN

Choose an application

• Reference Manager
• EndNote
• RefWorks (Direct export to RefWorks)

In December 1975 Dutch photographer Bertien van Manen made a series of black-and-white photographs capturing daily life in metropolitan Hungary, which was then under Soviet occupation. 'I will be Wolf' brings together many of these beautiful and never-before-seen images with the editorial direction of renowned British photographer Stephen Gill. Her snapshots of commuters, grocers, chemists, café workers, and street vendors contain all the hallmarks of a bygone era, before the grip of globalisation was able to make its mark on the Soviet Bloc. Imbued with an air of ambivalent nostalgia, the book takes its title from a line in the poem Grief by the 20th century Hungarian poet József Attila.